


Fill Up On Sweets

by GretchenSinister



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Shapeshifting, Valentine's Day, Vore, consensual vore, size shifting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretchenSinister/pseuds/GretchenSinister
Summary: Sandy gives Pitch a very traditional gift for Valentine's Day--a box of chocolates. However, all of the chocolates are shaped like Sandy, and Pitch's reaction to these treats opens the door to a conversation about something neither of them would otherwise admit they wanted from the other.Unlimited by biology and able to shapeshift, they make the changes needed to accommodate their unusual desires. Sandy shrinks himself down, and Pitch, well--Pitch fills up on sweets (sweet dreams, that is).A very good time is had by all.





	Fill Up On Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> You do get to see Sandy back to normal and all right at the end of this!
> 
> Also, if you've read "The Dark Watcher" and "A Perfect Man is Hard to Find," well, I don't think you can be surprised by this.

            “Really? After all these years, you’re bringing me a box of chocolates on Valentine’s Day?”

            _What’s wrong with a little tradition?_ Sandy asked, holding the large, red, heart-shaped box out to Pitch again.

            “The most traditional Valentine’s Day we ever spent was the one where Cupid shot us both with arrows to try to end our feud,” Pitch said.

            Sandy grinned. _Yes, but as inconvenient as that was, didn’t it prove that we’ve managed to remain discreet all these years?_

            “Sandy, it was awful. We had to spend the whole day fighting a compulsion to do what I had actually wanted to do that day in the first place.”

            _All right, all right, it was all very horrible. Now do you want the candy or not?_

            “Don’t be smug that your generic gift caters to my insatiable sweet tooth,” Pitch said, taking the box. “And don’t think I’m going to share them with you, either. I’m going to eat every one of them myself, in front of you.”

            _I intended nothing less,_ Sandy signed as Pitch curled his fingers around the edge of the lid.

            Pitch stopped and gave Sandy a suspicious look. “Well, I won’t eat them if they have something you know I don’t like inside them.”

            Sandy raised his eyebrows. _I don’t know of any candy you don’t like, and I’ve seen you on nearly every Halloween that’s ever been._

            “There are still some things I’d rather feed to the nightmares,” Pitch insisted. “All I’m saying is that there had better be a guide.”

            Sandy only smiled. Pitch shook his head and opened the box.

            “Oh,” he said when the contents were revealed. “Oh.”

            He had plucked one of the candies from the box and brought it halfway to his mouth before he stopped himself with visible effort and gave Sandy a somewhat wary look. “These are,” he said, and looked to the box, to the candy in his hand, and then to Sandy again, “these are all shaped like you.”

            _So they are_. Sandy gave Pitch a sidelong glance. _That doesn’t put you off, does it?_

“No,” Pitch said slowly. “Though it does make me wonder that you seemed so—well, that you said you fully expected me to eat them in front of you.”

            _It_ is _just candy._ Sandy smiled. _And sometimes I like you to have a chance to indulge yourself._

            Pitch chuckled and raised one eyebrow. “In that case,” he said, lifting the candy again, “here’s to you, and whatever ulterior motive you doubtless invited me here with.” He leaned back against the plush dreamland couch and brought the chocolate Sandy closer to his face to examine it. The resemblance was truly remarkable. The swirls of Sandy’s dreamsand clothes were molded in every detail around his soft limbs and round little belly. His face had been formed wearing a gentle, sleepy smile, and, really, the main differences between this chocolate and the real Sandy , apart from size, were that the candy was the mellow brown of milk chocolate, and due to the limitations of that medium, it had fluffy looking spikes, not spiky looking fluff, for hair.

            Pitch grinned and bit off the lower half. The creamy sweetness of the milk chocolate was immediately cut by the tartness of raspberry filling, and Pitch laughed aloud. “Gruesome, little man,” he said, his grin returning with teeth all red. “But, nevertheless, delicious.” He stuck his tongue into the remaining half of the chocolate Sandy and licked out the rest of the filling before finishing the chocolate shell with a dull crunch.

            _I thought you’d like that,_ Sandy signed. _I’m glad that’s the first one you picked._

            Pitch smirked. “You’re lucky I decided to bite it, then. The effect wouldn’t have been nearly as good if I had simply let you—that is, it—melt in my mouth.”

            _Well, I guess I’m just lucky, then,_ Sandy signed as he took a sip of the champagne he had somehow acquired while Pitch was distracted.

            “Lucky,” Pitch muttered to himself, and turned his attention back to the remaining chocolates.

 

***

           

            Caramel. Nougat. Rose Carmella. Orange cream. Maple cream. Chocolate cream.  Sandy’s face in every shade from ivory to nearly black. All of him luscious, all of him worthy of savoring, and yet Pitch had to take care not to simply stuff his face with chocolate after chocolate. He almost wished Sandy would leave him alone for a short while, so he could do just that. All these chocolate Sandies were calling to mind some of the few thoughts he made absolutely sure to keep from Sandy, and he’d rather avoid anything happening that he’d have to explain—

            Sandy’s signs flickered in the corner of his eye.

            “What was that?” he asked, turning to face him, half a dark chocolate hazelnut Sandy in his hand.

            _I said, you’re eating those so quickly, I wonder if you’d eat me without even noticing, if I was the same size._

            Pitch stared at Sandy, sure he’d read the signs wrong. Belatedly, he realized he should laugh at such an absurd statement, and even more belatedly, he realized he needed to distract Sandy from asking him what he had thought he had signed.

            _Or maybe that’s unfair_ , Sandy signed. _I have a feeling you’d pay very close attention if you had the chance to eat me._

            “Are you…are you trying to put me off my present by suggesting something so bizarre?” That had to be what Sandy was doing, even if he didn’t seem to be. He couldn’t know, and it was at least a little like him to try to spoil Pitch’s enjoyment of something. He had thought he could read Sandy better than that, after all these years, but apparently not.

            _If I was trying to put you off anything I’d be doing a very poor job of it,_ Sandy signed. He scooted over on the sofa so he was pressed against Pitch’s side. _I can read you better than that._ His eyes flicked up and down Pitch’s body. _And sometimes you’re very, very easy to read._ He reached over, picked up one of the chocolates, and held it out to Pitch. A smile slowly spread across his face as Pitch took the chocolate and placed it in his mouth, whole, moving as if hypnotized. As soon as he saw Pitch swallowing, he signed a little more. _I think you_ really _want to eat me._

            Pitch immediately began the process of choking on his chocolate, but his physical distress was almost an afterthought compared to his mental turmoil. Sandy had guessed! Pitch had been so careful! And that a box of chocolates, of all things, could lead to this conversation! Lies had always made their relationship worse, so there would be no point in denying what Sandy said once he got his breath back. But he would have to explain; he would have to make sure that Sandy understood what he wanted, because Sandy could be thinking all sorts of things right now, he didn’t know the _details_ of what Pitch wanted….

            And yet Sandy didn’t look defensive at all. He didn’t look like he was planning to run away, and, well, he was the one who had brought the box of chocolate Sandies in the first place.

            Perhaps this Valentine’s Day wasn’t going to be so traditional after all.

 

***

 

            “I just want to make this absolutely clear,” Pitch said, and cleared his throat again. “My aim is not to destroy you, or to cause you to cease to be in any way. I…my desire for you just happens to include this…unusual expression as well.”

            _I understand_ , Sandy told him. _I brought the chocolates, didn’t I?_

            “A similar thought did cross my mind while I was choking.”

            Sandy smiled. _I knew it was a good idea to give you time to think before speaking._

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Pitch asked dryly. He glanced away and shrugged. “Then again, none of my first thoughts were correct. When you brought out that box of chocolates, I thought you were just being cheeky.”

_Of course I was being cheeky. But I also was looking to see if you could share in_ my _…unusual desires._

            Pitch chuckled and smirked at Sandy. “There is no desire of yours that could be too unusual for me, after the fact that you desire me in the first place,” he said. “Though, I understand why you brought me the chocolate instead of just asking. I worked very hard to keep this particular desire hidden from you.”

            It was Sandy’s turn to smirk. _But it was just too much for you, wasn’t it? All those chocolate Sandies disappearing past your lips and melting deliciously on your tongue._ Sandy licked his own lips and pressed closer against Pitch. _You ate so many._ He met Pitch’s eyes as he slowly drew his hand over Pitch’s clothed, semi-hard cock. _You must be nearly stuffed by now._

            Pitch’s breath caught. “Oh no, Sandy,” he murmured. “I’m just as ravenous as ever.”

            _Good_. Color crept into Sandy’s cheeks, now. _Do you think one more sweet treat would satisfy you?_

            “If that sweet treat is you, then, yes,” Pitch said.

            _Now, just to be absolutely clear_ , Sandy signed, the edges of his symbols getting a little fuzzy, _beyond the mouth, this is going to be rather unbiological, yes?_

            “Entirely unbiological,” Pitch said. “I’ve often told myself that in some ways this could be considered nothing more than an odd embrace.”

            Sandy laughed a little. _We both know there’s more to it than that. Even if it is entirely unbiological._

            “I concede the point,” Pitch said. He cupped Sandy’s cheek. “Now, it’s true that you look absolutely mouthwatering right now, but I think you may be too much for me to handle at your current size.”

            _Ah, of course._ Sandy climbed into Pitch’s lap and wrapped Pitch’s arms around himself. _I go down easy enough in other ways, I’ll make it so I go down easy now._

            The first thing Pitch noticed was that Sandy’s clothing, which normally fit him so nicely, was starting to become loose. “Oh, so that’s the way things are going to go,” he said, easily lifting Sandy as he continued to shrink out of his clothes.

            Sandy grinned at him over a neckline that now draped to reveal most of his chest. _What’s a little shrinking like this compared to what’s going to come after?_

            “You really are such a cheeky little thing,” Pitch said, as Sandy’s clothes fell down to his elbows.

            _Do you want to see if I could take you like this before I go any further?_

Pitch giggled before he could stop himself. “Oh, no, I really shouldn’t,” he said. “And, I know it wouldn’t really be a challenge, given the non-nature of our bodies.”

            _Ah, but imagine the visual._

            “Believe me, I will,” Pitch said. “But I don’t want to be distracted from tonight’s main course.” He lifted Sandy a little closer to his face. “You’re not getting nervous now, are you?” he asked in the low, silky tone that let Sandy know that he wasn’t being too serious, but also happened to have the same effect on Sandy that Pitch’s tongue running up the inside of his thigh would.

            Sandy winked at him, then wriggled a little, causing his clothes to slide off his body even further. _Oh, well, I don’t know. It’s just that, you’re so big now, and I’m getting so small. Why, by the time I’m done, I’ll be hardly a mouthful for you._

            “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pitch said, raising Sandy’s chin with one finger. “I’m sure you’ll be quite satisfying all the same.”

            _Well, if you’re sure it’ll be all right_ , Sandy signed, and started to shrink again. _I’m going to start speaking directly to your mind, now. I think the symbols are shortly going to be difficult to use._

            Pitch nodded, and Sandy gave him a wicked grin that transformed smoothly into one of false innocence. _Oh my,_ he said, _I just keep on getting smaller and smaller! When am I ever going to stop?_

            “I’m sure you’ll know the right time to stop,” Pitch said. “Let me take that wrapper off you, though, so I can see how delectable you really are.” He lifted a struggling (but not struggling too hard) Sandy out of his clothes, involuntarily licking his lips at the feel of Sandy’s warm and pliant flesh filling his hands.

            _You really do look hungry,_ Sandy said, his blush returning to his face (and some of his neck and chest) in full force.

            “Who wouldn’t work up an appetite with such a treat before them?” Pitch said as he transferred Sandy to one hand. “Ah, and now I can see that your change in size is slowing. In fact….” He paused, watching Sandy closely. When Sandy was just tall enough for the tips of the spikes of his hair to reach the base of Pitch’s fingers, and for his toes to just reach the top of Pitch’s wrist, Pitch spoke again. “I see now that you’ve stopped.”

            Sandy looked up at Pitch. _And a good thing, too. I can still be a substantial mouthful for you. Though, if you’re planning to eat me in one bite, I wonder if I still might be a little big for you._

            “Oh, don’t worry about that,” Pitch said. “I can be as accommodating as I need to be to enjoy you.”

            _Oh, well_ , Sandy said. _Then I guess there’s nothing else to be worried about._

            “You’re allowed to be a little worried,” Pitch said. He cradled Sandy loosely in his palm. “After all, I am going to eat you.” He gave Sandy an open-mouthed smile.

            _Is that why you have such big, sharp teeth?_ Sandy asked.

            Pitch smirked and bit his lip as he stroked the curve of Sandy’s belly with his thumb. “The better to make you hot and bothered with, my dear,” he said. He rubbed his thumb very gently against Sandy’s cock, watching Sandy writhe into the touch and grip his palm with his tiny hands. “Conventionality would have you buy me dinner before I gave you something like this, but I think we can skip that step under these particular circumstances.”

            _Me_ being _dinner, you mean?_ Sandy said, even as he ground his hips against Pitch’s thumb.

            “Exactly,” Pitch said. “Though I do tend to think of you more as a dessert, sweetie.”

            Sandy laughed. _That was awful! And, also, the first time you’ve called me sweetie._

            Pitch moved his thumb a little more. “Well, now, if I ever do it again, you can think of tonight.”

            _Amazing what you’ve done to a poor vanilla endearment_ , Sandy said.

            “I had to wait for the most opportune time,” Pitch said. He hummed, helping Sandy rut against his thumb. “It really is amazing to see you like this. That is, you always look lovely, but now…I can see all of you at once, I can touch all of you at once, and you’re just so warm and soft and solid. Your skin is even silkier like this, and I hope I don’t feel too rough to you—”

            _A little texture is good for me right now,_ Sandy said, the blissful expression on his face confirming the fact. _I—I—_

            “The way you _tremble_ ,” Pitch murmured. “Oh, you little morsel, all for me, and you’re enjoying this too, aren’t you? Oh, yes you are, my beautiful little horny dreampuff.”

            With a few final frantic thrusts, Sandy came against Pitch’s thumb, the arch of his back and the expression of release on his face showing that this orgasm was at least as intense as any Pitch had given him under more ordinary circumstances.

            Pitch chuckled as he looked at Sandy, panting and blissed-out on his palm. “It’s so easy to pleasure you like this,” he said. “What would you think of having a giant at your beck and call for this sort of thing? I could keep you in my pocket all day, and whenever you wanted some you could tap me on the leg.”

            Sandy opened his eyes so he could wink at Pitch. _I think someone would notice something,_ he said, _especially since I might get bored and start seeing what I could do through fabric with a cock bigger than I was._

            “Oh,” Pitch said, a blush staining his cheeks. “I guess I didn’t think through all the details. You’re just so distracting to me like this.” He lifted Sandy up to his mouth and delicately licked his hand and Sandy clean with the tip of his tongue. “Bitter and sweet,” he said. “Almost intoxicating. And it would seem that you share the sentiment, seeing that your refractory period was more like a refractory moment.” Pitch touched his tongue to Sandy’s renewed erection (and the tops of his thighs, and the underside of his belly) and felt him quivering with the effort of not moving.

            _How could I not speed things up a bit?_ Sandy asked. _After all, it certainly seems like you’re getting ready to enjoy your treat._

            “Oh, you’re certainly right about that,” Pitch said. “And it’s so good that your previous trepidation seems to have gone entirely.”

            _Well, your tongue felt good on me_ , Sandy said. _It’s hard to resist that kind of thing, even when I know I’m about to be devoured._

            “Ah, Sandy.” Pitch licked his lips and smiled. “You whet all my appetites.” Pitch saw Sandy’s cock stiffen even further and gently moved him so that his hand curled softly around his lover, his forefinger and thumb under Sandy’s arms. “If my tongue feels good to you, my sweet, let’s see how you like it when my lips join the fun.” He kissed the warm swell of Sandy’s belly and felt a gratifying wordless moan sound within his head, seasoned with a piquant spike of nervousness. “Oh,” Pitch murmured, “to think that of all the powers in the world, only I will ever be able to enjoy a delicacy quite like this.” One by one, he enveloped each of Sandy’s limbs between his lips, using these and his tongue to learn anew the shape of each perfect, delicate arm and leg.

            _Am I to your liking, so far?_ Sandy asked after Pitch had left a final massive, yet gentle kiss on the bottom of his little foot, as he reclined, flushed and panting, in Pitch’s hand.

            “Of course and always,” Pitch said. He smiled again, showing off his massive, sharp, glistening teeth. “But I’m afraid I’m just too ravenous to toy with you anymore.”

            _I—I understand_ , Sandy said, his eyes riveted on Pitch’s mouth.

            “Then I believe I’ll eat you now, my sweet,” Pitch said. He brought Sandy to his mouth, and paused. “Of course, with a meal like you, it would no doubt be prudent to loosen my clothes.” After a few moments of fumbling and a soft sigh from Pitch, Sandy looked over his shoulder and down to see Pitch’s erection now standing free of his clothes, as hard and full and ready as he’d ever seen it. It almost made Sandy wish that he was taking Pitch into himself in a more usual way, rather than Pitch taking him in in such an unusual way. But then again, the way he was now, he could feel Pitch’s voice vibrating through him whenever he spoke, and, oh, the sight of that huge mouth, those deadly teeth, that vast, slick, flexible tongue! Yes, yes, he wanted this size, this scenario right now, no matter how good Pitch’s cock looked to him.

            “That’s better,” Pitch said, sounding a little less composed than before. “Are you flattered, my morsel?” Pitch asked as soon as Sandy turned back to him.

            Sandy smiled slowly and nodded.

            “Mmm. It’s a pity you won’t be able to see my responses after I swallow you.”

            _You can still tell me about them,_ Sandy said, _I’m sure I’d still be able to hear._

            “True,” Pitch said. “And now that we’ve cleared that up…” He licked his lips once again, slowly, luxuriously. “I do believe it’s time, love.”

            Pitch lifted Sandy to his mouth and took him inside up to his waist. He was quite a mouthful, his flesh hot and pliant, his skin ever-so-slightly sweet like always. Pitch thoughtfully explored his form with his tongue, holding him steady with his teeth when he started to wriggle. The mouthfeel of his lover was excellent, truly as smooth as silk. Pitch released his teeth enough to push Sandy a little farther past his lips, and wondered what Sandy thought of the feel of his mouth. He wasn’t getting any coherent thoughts from him, but based on past experiences that likely meant he was doing well.

            Pitch was right. The reason that he sensed no coherent thought from Sandy was because there was no coherent thought to be had. The sensations Pitch’s mouth gave him overwhelmed him—the smooth slickness of the inside of his lips, the careful strength of his hot, wet, tongue as it explored every inch of his body, and his teeth! Oh, his teeth! Huge and unyielding and sharp! When they held him still, so inexorable, so gentle, so lethal, he almost came in that very instant. But he managed to hold himself back, just barely, in anticipation of a greater moment soon to arrive.

            Pitch sucked him deeper into his mouth and Sandy gave a long, loud, wordless moan. Pitch responded by undulating his tongue between Sandy’s spread legs, and Sandy gasped and twisted. It was clear that Pitch had his own ideas about when Sandy should have his next orgasm, and Sandy was becoming more and more certain that he would soon succumb to Pitch’s ministrations.

            And how could he not? He’d made himself helpless against Pitch, helpless as one of the candies he’d given Pitch at the start of their evening. And it felt so, so, _good_.

            Pitch’s tongue cradled him and his lips parted slightly once again. With a careful movement of his tongue, he slipped Sandy entirely into the hot cavern of his mouth. Sandy gasped, reflexively grabbing for something to hang onto. His hands reached only teeth and tongue, and a sharp thrill ran up his spine, driving out all more rational panic. He took a shuddery breath as the soft light from his skin illuminated the deep red vault above him and the ivory walls around him. But there was still one place he could see that his light couldn’t fully penetrate. There, below his feet—the inky, close blackness of Pitch’s throat. Oh, it was so, so near! How long would Pitch hold him like this? How long would Pitch torture him? Sandy could feel the wetness of every surface around him; he knew Pitch’s mouth was watering for him. When would Pitch—when would Pitch—

            Pitch’s tongue lifted Sandy in a mighty swell and pushed him into the darkness of his gullet. Hot, slick flesh surrounded him completely, powerful muscles contracting around his entire body as Pitch swallowed him down. He imagined the bulge he was making in Pitch’s long, lovely throat, and gave himself completely up to bliss as he came.

 

***

 

            When he had drawn Sandy into his mouth, Pitch had been worried for a moment that he wouldn’t be able to focus enough to make himself accommodating for Sandy, what with his delicious reactions blooming directly in his brain, and his own arousal at the thought of Sandy in his mouth growing almost painful. But he wanted Sandy deeper inside him, and so after a short pause, he knew he had managed it.

            He moved his tongue around Sandy to get the taste of him once again. His stomach growled. His cock throbbed. He took a deep breath through his nose and swallowed Sandy.

            Sandy moved slowly, yet smoothly, down Pitch’s throat, his path clear thanks to his warmth and solidity, and, yes, in the slight bulge he created as Pitch took him in. Pitch felt himself pulse and nearly come as he ran his fingertips over that bulge, his self-control not aided by Sandy’s own orgasm echoing in his mind.

            He swallowed forcefully again, squeezing Sandy further down his throat. He could feel Sandy, in his post-orgasmic glow, enjoying this very strange embrace, and he gave him one more before the little round warmth that was Sandy entered the ersatz stomach he had created for their play.

            Pitch lay back on the couch, breathing heavily. He couldn’t focus on any emotions that Sandy was sending to him right now. He had to pause; he had to think about what he had just done; he had to think about what he wanted to do next.

            He had just _eaten_ Sandy. He had put Sandy in his mouth, tasted his sweet skin, swallowed him, and now he rested in his belly. Pleased contentment warred with desperate arousal in his mind and body. “Oh, Sandy,” he sighed. He rested one hand on his chest just beneath his breastbone and slowly began to move it downward. Sandy had made himself so small that he didn’t think he’d be able to feel any change in his usual shape, but he wanted to touch where he knew Sandy was just as much as he wanted to touch his own cock.

 

***

 

            Inside Pitch, Sandy held himself still for the moment, feeling sleepy and sated, though he’d been the one swallowed rather than doing any swallowing himself. He felt a pleasant little chill run up and down his spine at the recent memory. Oh, it had been good, so good, as good as he had imagined it, as good as Pitch had probably imagined it, too. There was nothing haphazard or rushed about the throat, and now, stomach, that Pitch had treated him to, and nothing of the almost-biology they both normally used. There was no sign of the chocolates that had started their evening, and there wasn’t even any egress from this stomach, other than the throat, so he would have to be creative when finding his way out, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he was naked in Pitch’s stomach, completely surrounded by slick, powerful muscle, warm and helpless and devoured and…held safe.

            And, well, perhaps he wasn’t so helpless after all. He gently stretched out inside Pitch’s stomach. _How are you feeling?_ he asked.

 

***

 

            Pitch felt the squirming in his stomach just before he heard Sandy’s question in his mind. He gave a soft groan and stopped even the slow progress of his hand. “So hot and hard even the slightest touch could undo me,” Pitch said. “The thought of you inside me already consumed my mind, and then you _moved_. To have you so obviously _alive_ in my belly, I…”

            _Should I struggle?_ Sandy asked.

            “I—oh—I think that really would overwhelm me,” Pitch said.

            _I can hear the strain in your voice even here,_ Sandy said. _You should give yourself the orgasm you need right now._ He stroked the muscle around him. _I think you need to react to eating me before you can react to having eaten me._

            Pitch laughed a little. “Well, I don’t really want to say no, but are you sure you won’t mind the wait?”

            _I don’t think it will be_ too _long a wait_ , said Sandy. _But, I still don’t mind. I’m actually quite comfortable._

            Pitch made a small sound in the back of his throat and his cock beaded with yet more pre-come. “Well, when you say that, I can hardly refuse,” he said. He moved his hand until it rested just below his navel.

            _Go on, Pitch,_ Sandy urged. _What was it like, eating me?_

            Pitch’s lips curled in a smile. “Well, you were absolutely delectable, as I’m sure you intended to be.” He inhaled sharply as he wrapped his hand around his hot, aching cock. He gave himself a slow, careful stroke, thinking of the weight of Sandy in his mouth, on his tongue. He wouldn’t need many more. “You really are a lovely morsel, Sandy, small and soft and round…I confess, I’ve had the fantasy of eating you for a very long time. No doubt longer than I should have, that is, if there’s any proper time for such a fantasy to develop.”

            Pitch felt a tiny flutter that might have been Sandy laughing.

            _It wasn’t during a truce when you thought of it, was it?_ he asked. _Did it still make you as hard as you are now?_

            “Nearly,” Pitch said. He carefully rubbed a finger along his slit and around his swollen head. “But the actual experience is something else entirely.” Pitch gripped himself loosely again, now with a little of his own slick on his fingers. “My imagination is strong, Sandy, but to really taste you—to hold you on my tongue—and then to swallow you, to feel—to feel the bulge you made in my throat—oh—anh!” Pitch paused for a moment, hardly able to think, yet still wanting to tease himself for a few more seconds. “Oh, Sandy…I could feel you hot within my throat as I swallowed you, I could feel your orgasm flood through your mind as a I swallowed you, and then, and then I could feel you warm and alive and wriggling in my belly! Oh, Sandy!”

            Pitch could no longer deny himself release, and his body arched sharply as his orgasm lanced through him. His cock practically leaped in his hand, his release a forceful jet he rarely saw when he’d only been touched by his own hand.

            He shuddered and gasped as he milked himself through the last of it, the intensity of his pleasure ebbing to a half-sore satiation. After a few deep breaths he moved his come-spattered hand to rest on his belly once more. He felt wrung out, exhausted.

            “I think you might have to be a little more patient than you thought,” Pitch murmured. The last movements of his hands on his softening cock had been just on the edge of painful, yet he was so overstimulated that even those uncomfortable touches had been paired with reawakened desire in his mind and the rest of his body. If he could have gotten hard again in that moment, he would have.

            Well—in the strictest terms of possibility, he could have—given the circumstances, it seemed absurd to acquiesce to any sort of biological limitations—but he had pushed himself for the sake of pleasure before, and he knew that he’d appreciate it the next day if he paced himself now.

            And besides, he wanted to spend more time thinking about Sandy in his belly.

            He groaned and stretched out on the couch. “It was an exquisite pleasure to eat you, Sandy,” he said. “You were delicious.”

            Pitch felt himself slip into a gentle half-doze then, so gentle he was sure that it had to come from Sandy. He accepted it, saying nothing. He needed a little rest now, and soon enough he’d be waking up fully…and full, with Sandy still inside him. The thought was ever so difficult to let go of. Even now it called heat to gather in the cradle of his hips. Pitch smirked a little and lightly patted his still-flat stomach. He let his eyes drift mostly closed and for a while he thought of nothing.

 

***

 

            Sandy, for his part, was thinking of many things as he curled up in the snug, warm chamber of Pitch’s stomach. It had been the easiest thing in the world to send Pitch into just the kind of sleeping state he wanted him in; now the only question was: what would things be like when Pitch woke up? Sandy had no intention of leaving at the moment, not with all the interesting possibilities fast approaching, and not when he’d soon be able to work on utterly undoing Pitch once again. And, well. The novelty of being inside Pitch still gripped him. He’d been half-hard at least since Pitch had started to stroke himself.

            But if he was going to pleasure himself in the belly of the nightmare king, he wasn’t going to do so now. First, he was going to see if his rather simple plan was going to work.

            It had been rather compelling to Sandy, when, during Pitch’s orgasm, he had felt the contraction and release of Pitch’s abdominal muscles beyond the wall of his chamber. It had also given Sandy a better idea of where he was—just a little lower on Pitch’s body than a biological stomach would be, and certainly well below his ribcage. It gave Sandy an idea he thought Pitch might like, if only it was possible.

            He increased the light coming from his body and pressed his hands to the smooth, red flesh before him. He slowly spread his hands apart, watching the space between them carefully. A grin spread over his face as he saw exactly what he was looking for. Pitch’s ersatz stomach was stretchy.

 

***

 

            When Pitch gathered his thoughts into a more wakeful state—or was allowed to reach a more wakeful state by Sandy, truly, but the distinction didn’t trouble him—he found himself _changed_. He swallowed hard, almost as if he was trying to get Sandy down again, and ran his hand slowly along the new curve of his belly. It wasn’t excessive, oh, no, but the swell was distinct, undeniable. Under his hand, the flesh was smooth, taut, warm, a living hill with a gentle slope. It was a greater change than a body was capable of after a feast, much less a single swallow. And yet, and yet…

            Pitch cupped the lower curve of his belly with both hands. Sandy. He was this way because of Sandy. Because he had eaten Sandy.

            With no touch at all, his erection grew as quickly as it ever had.

            _Oh, good, you’re up_ , Sandy said.

            “In more ways than one,” Pitch replied.

            _As I suspected you would be_.

            Pitch could easily read the tone of Sandy’s mental voice, and imagined him grinning smugly inside him. Smugly and snugly, all curled up and—ah, well, that was _quite_ the thought, wasn’t it?

            _How are you feeling?_ Sandy asked before that train of thought could become a runaway.

            “I—” Pitch broke off. How _was_ he feeling? Aroused, that was certain, but if he really took stock of his body, what did he find?

            Well, a little languor lingered from before, the kind that stuck around after he’d eaten dreamsand. It was fitting that he felt it now, of course. And then, for another thing, he was warm. His normally-cold extremities were suffused with a pleasant heat, a heat which suffused him, centered in his belly. His belly. Oh, there was more to take stock of there than usual, but the main sensation that he felt was…

            “Full,” he said. “Completely full. I feel…sated, Sandy.” He rubbed his hand over his belly. “A little sleepy, very much content, and, hm, well, perhaps just on the edge of discomfort. You’re _much_ more than a mouthful now.”

            _Do you feel like a big, bad monster now that you’ve eaten me all up?_ Sandy asked, squirming a little inside Pitch.

            Pitch inhaled sharply, his mouth going dry. “Oh, oh yes,” he said.

            _As well you should,_ Sandy said, and Pitch got the distinct impression of a wink. _You_ are _a big, bad monster, eating me like that!_ He wriggled again, this time enough to slightly distort the outer surface of Pitch’s stomach.

            Pitch gulped and took a deep breath to steady himself, which didn’t help when Sandy squirmed and struggled again.

            _Well?_ Sandy asked. _What do you have to say for yourself?_

            “Well, if that’s the way you’re going to play it…” Pitch said.

            _Of course it is! Who wouldn’t be indignant about being eaten, no matter how nice the stomach they’ve ended up in is? Who wouldn’t struggle?_

            Pitch chuckled and patted his belly. “I understand your struggling, then, but I can’t sympathize! I was simply ravenously hungry, and you were the only tidbit who would do. After all, one little bite of you and you’ve filled me right up. Even if I had been starving for millennia, I know you would have sated me.”

            _Picky monster_ , Sandy said.

            “I only want to feel the one I love the most alive and writhing in my belly,” Pitch said, his back arching up as Sandy provided a demonstration of what he’d just said. “Ah,” he sighed, stroking the curve of his belly once more. “There’s no need for such struggling, Sandy. Am I not a worthy vessel for your flesh? And, after all, every night the sun is swallowed up by darkness; it’s fitting that for this night together I should swallow you.”

            Sandy laughed out of his character. _Bad astronomy, Pitch_ , he said.

            Pitch felt a subtler movement inside himself now, and wondered what it could be. “So my metaphor isn’t up to your standards,” he said. “I’m still the one that ate you.”

            _True, very true_ , Sandy said. _How hard are you right now, Pitch?_

            “No more messing around, hm?” Pitch said. “Big and hard enough that if you were out here I’m sure you’d be eagerly climbing on, but I’m not sure I could promise you a very long ride.”

            _And all that just because of one good meal_ , Sandy said.

            “A very good meal,” Pitch said. Once more, he felt the same small movement in his belly. Sandy warm, Sandy alive, Sandy consumed. All within that gentle convexity. Pitch laughed as he guessed what the small movements were. “Sandy, are you pleasuring yourself?” he asked.

            _I am_ , Sandy said, the sense of a smile accompanying his words. _This conversation is rather, ah, warming._

            “I can’t deny it,” Pitch said. “And I’m glad there’s no reason for me to delay any longer.” He wrapped one hand around his cock and groaned at the touch.

            _Oh, Pitch, were you getting very desperate?_

            “Sandy—” Pitch began, but couldn’t seem to think of anything else. He closed his eyes and gave a little moan as he stroked himself, spreading slick precome all down his length.

            _Are you going to hold me through your body?_ Sandy asked.

            For a moment, Pitch couldn’t figure out what he meant. But then— “Oh,” Pitch sighed, sliding his free hand around to cup his belly as his other hand continued to work his cock. “Yes, I’ve got you, Sandy, I’ve got you so completely, you’ve filled me up, you’ve satisfied me, I—you’re almost _too_ much, Sandy!” He felt Sandy’s fluttering little movements under his hand, and all his erogenous response suddenly seemed centered in his belly rather than his cock. He groaned with the confusion of sensation as his hands played over hot, smooth, taut flesh, one wet, one dry.

            Sandy’s movements grew quicker, and so did Pitch’s own, in turn. He was full, full, full to bursting, and though there would be no relief from the stretch Sandy made in his belly—but he did not want relief from this strain—he could at least chase some relief from the sweet ache between his legs, he could at least find some release, empty himself in celebration for his glorious fullness.

            He felt Sandy’s movements still, and a wave of honeyed relief washed lightly and strangely over his own still-burning need. But, ah, the satisfaction was real, and Sandy had found his satisfaction inside Pitch.

            Pitch curled one hand protectively around his belly, and with the other stroked his cock ever more quickly. He was close, so close, if he could just allow himself to let go, and, oh, he could let go, he could let go and still retain Sandy, he had eaten Sandy and Sandy was _his_.

            His release came to him then, the pleasure just as overwhelming as before, but with a broader peak this time. In this wide summit of bliss he spent himself, not arching and writhing this time, but letting himself go boneless, letting this wave of strangely obtained pleasure drown him if it would.

            It didn’t drown him, though, and soon enough he came back to himself, messy but utterly content, and now desiring nothing but sleep. With a gentle smile he softly patted the mound of his belly. Of course, after all that he was still full, only now he was sated in all ways.

            “Sandy?” Pitch asked.

            _Yes?_ he replied sleepily.

            “Thank you,” said Pitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so…satisfied.”

            _Sleep now_ , Sandy said. _I’ll be beside you when you wake_.

            Pitch didn’t ask how he would accomplish this, but only drifted off into a deep, dreamless slumber.

            It was dreamless, naturally, because Sandy had a few other things on his mind.

 

***

 

            Pitch woke to find himself once again dressed in his robe and leggings, clean and dry, and lying on the same couch that he had fallen asleep on—this, too, had been cleaned. And his belly was flat once again.

            _Well, hello there,_ signed Sandy from where he sat at the other end of the couch, full-sized and fully clothed.

            “Hello yourself,” Pitch said. “I suppose I couldn’t have kept you forever.”

            _Certainly not,_ Sandy signed with a smile. _But if you’re feeling very bereft—or maybe just ordinarily hungry—we still have a lot of the chocolates from earlier left over._

            “Noted.” Pitch yawned. “I’m not quite sure I feel ready to move yet.” He sighed. “Again, Sandy, thank you, thank you, thank you. That was absolutely incredible, and I’m so amazed that we shared this inclination—”

            _Goodness, Pitch, you’re gushing_ , Sandy signed.

            “Well, what do you have to say?” Pitch asked with sudden trepidation.

            _Only that I believe I enjoyed myself just as much as you did, and that you’re the only one I’d let eat me in that way,_ Sandy said.

            “Ah,” Pitch said, relaxing again. “Now, if you don’t mind me asking—how did you come to be where you are now?”

            Sandy tilted his head and gave a curious little smile. _Look down at yourself_ , he told Pitch. _You might need to move your robe a little._

            Pitch obeyed, pushing himself more towards a seated position. As he did so, his robe fell open to reveal a vertical line of large, neat stitches in glittering gold thread starting just under his sternum and ending below his navel. “Oh,” he breathed, reaching out to touch them with careful, reverent hands.

            _It worked for Little Red, so I figured it could work for me_ , Sandy signed. _Of course, the difference for me is that I want my big bad wolf to come out of this safe and sound—no woodsmen allowed._

            “Well, I thank you very much for that,” Pitch said. He paused. “Do you think it would be all right if I kept these for a while? I know with the way I dress that they’re going to be rather visible…”

            _You should certainly keep them_ , Sandy said. _I worked very hard to put you together, and those stiches_ are _what’s holding you together right now._ The seriousness of his words didn’t match the smile on his face.

            “Ah,” Pitch said. “Then what shall I say if anyone asks?”

            _Say that the stiches are a gift from me,_ Sandy said. _Whether they think we’re enemies or lovers, they can fill in the blanks on their own._

            “Strange things they might assume, if they know we’re lovers,” Pitch said.

            _No more strange than what they already know,_ Sandy said. _Nothing to make them fuss more than they already do._

            Pitch tilted his head, then shrugged. “Well, you’re right enough there.”

            _I always try to be,_ Sandy said. _Now, would you like a chocolate?_

            “Yes, thank you,” Pitch said.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone take a chance on this who normally wouldn't? Anyone get a new kink? Let me know, lol.


End file.
